Page 13 of Obsession

“Come on, Royce. What other lies are you gonna spin for me? Or are you ready to tell the truth?”

“I’m sorry,” he blubbers, tears forming in his eyes.

“Aww,” I chuckle. “Do you hear that, brother? The rapist says he’ssorry.How cute. Unfortunately, that’s not going to save you now.”

I can’t kill the man. I could, but I’d need help cleaning it up, and I’m not in the mood to owe a favor to the family I’m currently trying to sabotage. So I decide to rough him up a bit. I let my fists pound into his face, a few knees to the ribs. He doesn’t fight back, just mostly tries to get away from me, and it’s a futile attempt.

I can’t stop seeing her body under his. Her meek hands trying to stop him, her soft voice saying no. She looked so small in that moment, not like the bratty, head-strong woman I’ve come to know. I like her spark; I have since the moment I laid eyes on her. And no one gets to break her but me. With my vision tinged red, my hands keep finding the asshole, hurting him as I unleash all of the pent-up anger.

It’s when Fede coughs that I finally stop. There’s sweat dripping from my brow as I stare down at the blubbering mess beneath me. His eyes are already swollen, and he keeps mumbling soft pleas.

I drop his collar, letting his body fall to the floor. Standing up, I shake out my hands. My knuckles are bruised and bloody—not the best look for the day before my wedding, but it will have to do.

“Stay away from Madi Ricci,” I spit at the kid, who’s now curled up in the fetal position on the floor.

“Ricci?” he mumbles. “Fuck.” His drawn-out curse tells me he just realized how badly he fucked up.

I uncuff my sleeves, taking my suit jacket from my brother and sliding it back on.

“Feel better?” he asks once we’ve emerged from the apartment building.

“Much,” I say with a grin.

Fede shakes his head, his annoyance with my shenanigans this morning evident on his face, but it doesn’t bother me. I knew the second I saw that stranger’s hands on my girl that I was going to need to punish him. No one touches what’s mine and gets away with it.

“Now, let’s get ready for my rehearsal dinner.”

EIGHT

Madi

There’s an ache brewing in the pit of my stomach as I enter my rehearsal dinner. The beautiful location feels jarring in contrast to the darkness of my pending marriage. There’s a long wooden table in the center of the courtyard surrounded by brick walls and greenery, settled under the open sky. Warmth from the setting sun coats everything in a golden haze that matches the strings of cafe lights.

Vases of pink roses and eucalyptus stems sit on top of the gauzy white linen runners and candles of various sizes fill in the blank spaces, the flames adding a bit of extra ambiance.

This is what I would have chosen if I’d planned it myself. For some reason, that makes me angrier. This should be mine. This moment should be special, but now it will always be tainted by the wrong man.

“You changed your hair.” As if on cue, Adrian appears behind me, pressing his palm against my lower back. He’s wearing a navy-blue Tom Ford suit with a white linen shirt and a pale pink tie that matches the roses on the table.

I want to move away from his touch, but I hold myself steady. “Not by choice.” I say, turning my body to face him. Something lingers in his eyes. I’m not sure if he’s just remembering the blue color of my hair with disgust, or if he doesn’t like the dark brown my mother had it dyed. Not that I care what he thinks.

“Are you ready?” he asks, snapping out of it and changing the subject.

“No,” I tell him.

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckles. “Here.” He tilts the glass of champagne he’s holding to me.

There’s a part of me that wants to beg, that wants to get on my knees and ask him to call this whole thing off. I should run. To Lana, maybe? What would that even look like? Hop on a plane and go? Someone would stop me, I’m sure of it. There are enforcers who follow me everywhere these days.

I take the champagne flute from him and chug it.

“Easy there,” he says, taking back the empty glass. “You don’t want to be drunk.”

“That’s exactly what I want to be.”

Adrian’s lips tilt up into a smile. “Sosassy,” he says with a laugh. “You always need to have some kind of comeback, don’t you?”

Everything with Adrian is back and forth, give and take. He says something, I retort. And so on.

---